


Barefoot on the Dancefloor

by InvisibleBookWorm



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Clubbing, Draco Malfoy In Heels, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2020-09-19 04:41:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20325262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InvisibleBookWorm/pseuds/InvisibleBookWorm
Summary: After a hard day at work, Harry wants to unwind. He forgets about meeting Ron at a club after something or someone is more interesting.





	1. Chapter 1

Barefoot on the Dancefloor

_‘My baby’s barefoot on the dancefloor, spinning all around, _

_Head up in the clouds, feet barely touch the ground,_

_Don’t’ know why I bought ‘em, don’t know why she brought ‘em,_

_Got her shoes up in her hand like she’s somewhere in the sand,_

_My baby’s barefoot on the dancefloor.’_

The first thing Harry notices is the pair of heels in a pale hand that is held up above everyone’s head. There’s pounding music in his ears and coloured lights flashing in his eyes. Harry is leant up against the bar with a beer in hand scanning the room Ron, when it had caught his eye.

It’s a Friday night and Harry is ready to wind down after a tiring week at work. He had just wrapped up his latest case, which had taken weeks of overtime and gruelling work, so he is looking forward to a fun night. He had agreed to meet Ron at the club after popping home for a quick shower and change and then Appariting to their usual muggle club they go to celebrate completing a case.

The heels that are bobbing in time with the beat are relatively high, from what Harry can see. He follows the pale arm down with his eyes, but the rest of the person is blocked by the crowd. Then, there is a gap and Harry’s breath gets caught in his throat.

The flashing lights casts shadows over sharp cheek bones. A blond fringe is plastered to a forehead with sweat. Eyes are closed, with a face towards the ceiling, revealing the arch of a long neck. Pale naked feet dancing, completely regardless of any manner of things on the dancefloor.

It’s Draco Malfoy

And he looks stunning.

Harry takes a huge swig of his beer and quickly turns to the bar. It’s been 3 years since he has seen Malfoy. It had been at the trial, when he had testified for him and Narcissa Malfoy. Pale, gaunt and a dull look in his eyes. Completely different from now. He had filled out nicely and full of life, dancing with no care in the world, lost in the music. Harry’s stomach churns. He couldn’t deny that Malfoy looks very attractive.

He and Ginny had decided they were better off as friends. Without the pressure of the war, Harry had decided to live for himself and had gone travelling on his own for a year. He had discovered lots about himself on his travels, mainly that he was gay. Ron and Hermione were supportive of him when he had told them. Hermione had laughed and said she had suspected something because of his obsession with Malfoy in sixth year. Harry had scoffed and brushed it off, but now… looking at Malfoy barefoot and moving to the music. Harry can’t keep his eyes off him.

Before he knows it, Harry sets his glass on the bar and moves toward the dancefloor. As he winds through the crowd, as if Malfoy senses him, Harry is lost in shining grey eyes. Malfoy’s eyes widen a fraction, but then they close half way as he smirks and keeps dancing. Harry moves closer and closer until they are within touching distance, eyes locked in a heated stare. Harry starts moving to the beat. The alcohol in his veins and the atmosphere of the club make him feel brave and his winds an arm around Malfoy and catches Malfoy’s free hand in his.

They move together with the music. Malfoy rests his hands holding the heels around Harry’s neck and the shoes bounce on his back. They are close. Harry’s heart is pounding. His mouth his dry. Malfoy’s breaths hotly in his ear. Harry can’t think. He just loses himself in the music and Malfoy wrapped around him.

They dance for what feels like hours. Moving as one person, blocking out everyone else and pressing their warm bodies together. Then, Harry motions to the bar and he pulls Malfoy by the hand along with him. He’s breathing heavily as he orders them both a drink. He turns around to see Malfoy bent over with his arse in the air and almost chokes on spit. Malfoy straightens and Harry notices he’s now a few inches taller than him. Harry looks down and sees that Malfoy has slipped on the heels.

They look really good. Malfoy’s feet are gracefully encased in stylish stilettos that arch his feet in a delightful way and make his long legs go on forever. His skin tight black jeans and black fishnet sleeveless shirt leaves little to the imagination. Harry swallows hard.

His eyes move back up to Malfoy's face and takes in the flushed cheeks and tousled hair. They lock eyes again and then Malfoy is then moving towards him. Without the shadows of the dancefloor, Harry can see his features more clearly. His sharp jawline and pointed nose. His swirling grey eyes. His smooth, pale skin. His pink lips, which he now realises are very close. Harry’s breath hitches and his eyes begin to close without his realising.

But then Malfoy is gone.

Harry snaps his eyes open and sees Malfoy casually sipping his drink a foot away, with an infuriating smirk on his lips. Harry flushes hotly and glares at his drink. He can’t believe he thought Malfoy was going to kiss him. His heart thumps at the thought. He takes a deep breath and swallows down a mouthful of his drink. Harry glances at Malfoy and discovers he is already looking at him. Malfoy arches a perfect eyebrow at him.

“Potter,” he drawls, as if they haven’t just spend the last hour grinding against each other. Malfoy’s low voice sent a shiver down his spine and his stomach is doing summersaults.

“Nice heels,” Harry forces out and takes another gulp of his drink, hoping it would calm his swirling stomach. No such luck.

“Thanks.”

There’s a pause. “What about you’re feet?” Malfoy raises both eyebrows. Harry mentally shakes his head from a daze. “I mean, aren’t you going to get your feet dirty or get glass stuck in them?”

“I’ve got a protection charm on them, I’m not stupid.” Malfoy rolls his eyes.

“Oh, right,” Harry mumbles, nodding. He cursed in his head. Of course Malfoy had though about it. He goes to take another sip, but realises the glass is empty. He frowns at it. Then Malfoy is breathing in his ear, “Do you want to get out of here?”

Harry nods and Malfoy takes his hand and leads them winding through a mass of bodies towards the exit. Malfoy’s hand is soft and warm in Harry’s and he doesn’t let go when they emerge into the cool night. Malfoy wraps an arm around him and he’s under the suffocating pressure of a side-along before landing in a dark room.

Moonlight spills into the room casting shadows on a sofa and coffee table. However, Harry doesn’t see any of this because his back is suddenly pressed against a wall and a hot mouth is smothering his. Malfoy’s hands are in his hair and around his waist puling his closer. Their lips collide in a heated kiss and Harry moans, practically melting against him. They move together in synchronisation and their lips push and pull against each other. Harry runs his hand up and down Malfoy’s back and then down his chest, feeling toned abs. Malfoy gasps and Harry takes the opportunity to roll his tongue into his mouth, tasting the alcohol. Their tongues caress each other as hands roam.

“You’re gorgeous,” Malfoy whispers, slipping a hand under Harry’s shirt, making him moan again. He tares his mouth away and takes huge gulping breaths. He lets out whimpers as Malfoy runs his hands lightly on his skin and places open-mouthed kisses down his neck.

“Please, Malfoy,” he moans as Malfoy nibbles on a sensitive place behind his ear. He’s not thinking this through at all. He doesn’t even know what he’s asking for. Malfoy is everywhere, encasing him in warm and his body tingles with pleasure.

“Bedroom,” Malfoy gasps and they are stumbling down a hallway, tearing off their clothes as they go. They can’t keep their hands off each other. They keep stopping and bumping into walls as they kiss.

Harry pushes Malfoy onto the bed and immediately latches onto his neck. Malfoy arches up and lets out a long moan that gives Harry the shivers. He brings his lips back up to his mouth and the kiss becomes slow and deep. He runs his hands down Malfoy’s chest, feeling the fine hair across his pecs and the fine trail that disappears under his boxers. They grind their hips together, gasping against each other’s lips as pleasure zips across their bodies.

“Alright?” he mumbles against his lips, tracing his fingers on Malfoy’s hips. “Do you want this?”

“Yes”, he breaths, bury his hands in Harry's hair and gripping. “Yes. Potter,” he moans.

“Harry”, he moves his lips along Malfoy’s jaw. “Call me Harry.”

“Ugh, Harry,” he murmurs as Harry’s lips move along his sternum. “Call… me… Draco,” he pants. “Ahhh.”

Harry grips his hips with one hand as he licks Draco’s skin and swirls his tongue against his sensitive nipple. Draco gives a sharp cry as Harry lavishes his nipple and pinches the other gently with his finger and thumb. Draco’s hands tighten in his hair and pulls him up to meet his mouth again. He hums into his mouth. Then breath leaves Harry’s lungs as he is flipped over and Draco’s body is pressed down on him. He gasps and a tongue is invading his mouth again.

Harry’s heart gives a jolt. He feels like he could spend the rest of his life like this. He and Draco fit together so perfectly. He _wants_ this. He wants it to last. Not just tonight, but for a long time. He feels complete wrapped around Draco and he doesn’t want to let go. He whimpers as Draco touches him and lets out a long moan as they move together. His body heats up and his skin tingles wherever Draco touches him.

“Draco,” Harry chokes out. His feelings are powerful and the intensity of Draco’s gaze, of the heat of his touch makes his heart swell. He feels that all their rivalry at school, his obsession with Draco through the war, the fleeting meetings before the trail and then the charged moment on the dancefloor has all build up to this. He clutches at Draco as they move and he feels something slot into place. They fit together, like puzzle pieces. They were ready for each other now, after all this time.

Harry buries his face into Draco’s shoulder and cries out as pleasure rushes through him. He feels Draco shake and moan above him and Harry clings to him. He doesn’t want to let go. He feels lips press to his cheek as he catches his breath. Draco’s body slumps against him and he relaxes, running his hand lightly up and down Harry’s spine.

“Stay,” he hears whispers into his ear. “Please.”

Harry tightens his grip.

“I’m not going anywhere.”


	2. Chapter 2

Harry slowly came to consciousness. He buries his face in the soft duvet covering the bed. He wiggles around a bit to straighten himself and then stretches out his sore muscles. Harry opens his eyes and lifts his head to look around. Sunlight was pouring through the open curtains illuminating the room. He was on a big queen size bed that took up most of the room with a bookcase near the window and a chest of draws opposite the foot of the bed.

Draco was nowhere to be seen and the other side of the bed was cold, so he must have been gone a while. It was early Saturday morning. Harry had nowhere to go, so he slumps back down and thinks about last night.

Draco.

Draco Malfoy.

Harry can’t quite wrap his head around it. He still stands by his revelations he had in the heat of the moment. Now in the cold light of the morning, Harry can think about it more clearly. He has always been the one to fall hard and fast about something and go headlong without considering the consequences.

Harry knows that he hasn’t seen Draco in years and he has no idea what he is doing with his life now, come to think of it. After the trial, Draco had disappeared from the public eye and there had only been a few articles in the Prophet about him sighted in Diagon Alley. Draco had always been in the back of Harry’s mind as he was travelling and then training to be an Auror. He had wondered what Draco was up to and how he was coping with the aftermath of the war, whether he struggled with nightmares or finding a purpose in life, like Harry had.

Joined with the shock of seeing Draco again and spending the night, Harry had been caught up in the whirlwind passion. This morning, Harry discovers his chest still tightens at the thought of seeing Draco again and getting to know him. He has unlocked his buried feelings and now they come rushing forth. The memory of Draco’s shimmering eyes and his toned muscles wrapped around Harry made him squirm happily. Though it was a surprise, seeing Draco in heels had made his heart thud. His slender, pale feet slipped in those killer black stilettos. Harry had nearly combusted.

They clearly had chemistry and Harry hopes that they got on well outside the bedroom. Harry gets lost in a daydream about the life he and Draco could build together. In the end, he drifts back to sleep but is the woken a tapping on the window.

Harry stumbles out of bed to see an owl holding the Prophet in its beak. Harry opens the window and it soars in and lands on the top of a bookshelf. There’s a bowl of change and some owl treats that Harry hadn’t noticed before. He pays for the paper and fees the owl before it flies out. Harry walks to the window and looks out. He sees rolling countryside and a forest off into the distance. Harry faintly wonders where he is as he breaths in the crisp morning air. A breeze rushes in and he shivers, closing the window.

Harry tuns to the room and see his clothes in a pile on a dresser. He picks them up and goes to one of the three doors in the room. He opens it and finds a walk-in closet. Harry rolls in eyes. Of course Draco would have lots of clothes. One side seems to be wizard robes and the other muggles clothes. Harry closes the door and goes to the next one, which opens to a modern bathroom with a shower. Harry can then fee al the sweat and dirt on his skin and decides to have a quick shower, hoping the Draco won’t mind.

Fifteen minutes later, Harry emerges, dressed in last night’s clothes, but feeling a lot fresher. He goes out into the hallway and then walks into the living room. He sees a kitchen around the corner and there’s an office he can see through the crack in a door. It’s then that Harry realises with a jolt it’s very quiet and Draco is nowhere to be seen. Everywhere is very tidy and there is no sign of life. Harry walks into the kitchen and sees nothing out of place.

Harry frowns. Surely Draco would have left a note or something. Harry looks around, but there is nothing. Draco had asked him to stay. Or had he imagined it? He doesn’t want to acknowledge that Draco thinks that last night was a one-time thing and doesn’t want to see him again. Harry’s heart feels heavy as he wonders through the flat, surrounded by Draco’s things, but not the man himself.

After a few moments of staring blankly at a painting of a lake above the fireplace, Harry shakes himself. There is no floo powder near the fireplace, so he moves towards, what he assumes is the front door. He steps out and the door swings shut behind him.

It’s not what he expected at all. Harry had stepped onto a bustling muggle street. Cars were flying past and there were people hurrying to their destinations. Harry frowns and turns to look at Draco’s door, but is surprised to see a bordered-up shop that looks like it had been closed for months.

Harry feels anger stirring inside him. First, Draco asks him to stay but then leaves him with no indication of where he had gone or what he felt about their night together. Then, he has shut Harry out of his house and deposited him on a random street. Harry has no means of finding Draco and there is no sign of the rolling hills of green in this muggle town. It was clear that Draco, no, Malfoy, thought of Harry as a fling and wanted nothing to do with him.

Harry starts stomping down the street, fuming. He was stupid to get his hopes up. Of course, Malfoy didn’t want him. They hardly knew each other now and with their childhood rivalry and what they went through in the war. Harry clenches his fists and tries to push the rising feelings for Malfoy deep down. His tendency for falling hard and fast was a recipe for heartbreak.

He was just caught up in the moment, Harry tells himself. Sure Dra-, Malfoy is attractive, but that doesn’t mean he would be what Harry is looking for.

Harry sighs and turns down an alley to Apparite home, pushing any thoughts of Malfoy away. The rest of the weekend, Harry spends running errands and keeping himself busy. Every time his mind drifts to the smoothness of Malfoy’s skin or the soft breath in his ear… Harry shakes his head and buries the images and goes on with his tasks, determined to move on. It was harder at night when he was alone with his thoughts and the house was silent. Frustrated, Harry picks up a book and read late into the night and only turning to sleep when he could no longer read the words on the page.

On Monday morning, Harry drags himself out of bed. He picks up the book which had fallen out his hands last night and places it on his bedside table. Harry gets ready for work and stumbles from the floo into the Ministry entrance hall. Harry realises that he had meant to meet up with Ron on Friday and he had abandoned him. He quickly scurries to his desk and is relieved to see that Ron was already busy with paperwork, so he was able to avoid any awkward questions.

Harry loses himself in work, but his luck runs out at lunchtime when he sees Ron approaching his desk, lunch in hand.

“Hey, mate. Where were you on Friday? I though we agreed to meet up?” Ron sits at the other side of his desk.

“Ah sorry, Ron,” Harry scratches the back of his head, messing up his hair. “I didn’t feel like it.”

Harry wasn’t sure that Ron would approve of what he had got up to. Malfoy certainly wasn’t his favourite person. Also, he especially didn’t want Ron to know about his humiliation of being left in the morning.

“Aw, too bad. You missed out. Daniel from downstairs start to …” Harry listens to Ron ramble on about Friday night. It sounded like things had got a bit out of hand, but that was normal for a Friday night after a long week. Harry munches on his packed lunch and tries not to think about how he spent his Friday night… scorching bodies and zinging pleasure… Harry shakes himself and tunes back into Ron’s story, “… and then he threw up on someone’s door step, smashing all their plant pots. Crazy right!”

“Eh... yeah, crazy!” Harry struggles to remember what Ron was talking about. Ron launches into another story, crumbs flying everywhere as he gestures with his sandwich.

After lunch, Ron goes back to his own desk and Harry is left to his paperwork from last week’s case. He has a couple of reports left to do but can’t concentrate. After an hour of struggling and procrastination, Harry sighs and decides to stretch his legs. He’s frustrated that he can’t focus and hopes making some tea will clear his head. Harry walks to the break room and makes himself a drink. He tries not to let his mind wonder too much as his tea brews and then heads back to his desk.

As he is walking down the corridor, Harry stops sharply and nearly burns his hand as his drink sloshes around in his cup. Malfoy is walking towards him, head buried in some paperwork. Harry’s heart is thudding loudly in his chest and his throat constricts. He hasn’t seen Malfoy on his floor before, so he is taken by surprise. He doesn’t really know what Malfoy even does for a living, so he is unsure why he is at the Ministry.

Harry stands there, hoping, and also dreading, that Malfoy will look up. Instead, Malfoy is focused on the papers in his hand and just walks around him. Harry breaths in sharply as they almost brush shoulders, but that turns out to be a mistake and he takes in Malfoy’s scent. He feels dizzy and Malfoy is then walking away from him.

Emptiness stretches within him and a bubble of desperation busts forward.

“Draco,” Harry blurts.

Malfoy stops in his tracks a few feet away and looks over his shoulder. There is no change in his facial expression except a twitch of the eyebrows and Harry only noticed it because he was staring so closely.

Seconds tick by and Harry wants the ground to swallow him whole. This environment was so different from Friday night and he feels his confidence shrivel up under Malfoy’s piercing stare. Words are lodged in his mouth.

“Potter.”

The name is like a punch in his gut and then he’s looking at Malfoy’s back as he walks away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They meet again! What do you think is going to happen?
> 
> Thanks so much for reading! Kudos and comments greatly appreciated :D


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Draco sighs heavily and runs a hand through his hair. It had been a few weeks since he had done some paperwork at the Ministry and his run in with Potter. He had felt a sharp chill when Potter had called out to him. Draco had forced himself to acknowledge the man and then quickly left the scene. Since then he had tried to avoid Potter as much as possible, but he could still feel the intense stare every time he step foot in the Ministry. 

Draco grumbles as he fixes his tie in the mirror and tries to push away the memory of the event that all started it. He smooths down his robes and examines himself with a critical eye. He’s wearing a set of formal navy robes that fall neatly over his lean frame. They are slim cut and fitted, his slender curves accentuated. Draco nods, satisfied, and strides out his room and downstairs. 

It was almost 6 o’clock, so Draco checks that everything is in place, takes his wand out, concentrates on his destination and then Disapparates with a soft pop. Draco arrives a street over from where he needs to be and sets off at a brisk pace. It’s a warm night with a slight breeze. The sound of his new shoes on the pavement echo in the quiet night. 

Despite his efforts, Draco’s thoughts return to the fateful events that reintroduced him the troublesome problem that was Potter. Draco was having a much-needed night out. He had lost Pansy on the dancefloor and was immersed in the flashing lights and the pounding beat he could feel from his feet up to the air around him. Dancing was an escape for him. It allowed the raging thoughts in his head to be pushed out, leaving only music and rhythm. High on alcohol and adrenaline, Draco had let Potter in, but in the cold light of the morning, he had realised his mistake. Looking down at Potter’s sleeping face, he had started to envision the presence of Potter in his bed, in the kitchen cooking dinner, on the sofa in front of the fire… in his life. Draco had harshly torn himself away from the bed and his thoughts. That could never happen, not with Potter. Especially not Potter. 

Draco had been trying to keep a low profile after his father had gone to Azkaban and his mother under house arrest. He was slowly building his reputation in the potions business and had a small mail order business. He didn’t need Potter messing everything up. Particularly as Draco was in the motions of buying a small shop off the side of Diagon Ally. He needs everything to go smoothly for the next month until he gets Ministry approval. Draco told himself that getting involved with Potter would just bring unwanted attention. Another voice said that he was foolish to even think that Potter would be interested in him and he’d wake up with burning hatred in his eyes. Last night was just influenced by the alcohol and now they’d got each other out their systems, they could just go back to two boats passing each other in the night. With his resolve strengthened Draco had left, after casting enchantments that would make sure it was the last time Potter could reach his home. 

Now, Draco approaches his destination, seeing the crowd filing in through the big doors of the building, ready for the charity gala. He tries to avoid events such as these, but he needs to convey a positive profile and it would be beneficial for certain members of the Ministry who will be here to see him supporting a good cause. Draco reaches the edge of the crowd and takes a deep breath, already feeling his chest tightening at the sight. He wishes Pansy could be here, but she was already busy. No matter, he could do this. Draco pushes himself forward and joins the steady trickle of guests. He is greeted at the door, then makes a beeline for the edge of the room. He plucks a glass of champagne from a circulating tray and take a mouthful, wincing at the sour taste, but it was better than nothing.

Draco takes another relieving breath. Comfortable with his back to the wall, he can now survey the room. They are quite a few in attendance for the event for the charity Star Foundation, who support children who have insufficient. After the war, the charity had got more funding, among other organisations, since there were quite a few children who were affected. While there were a lot of people who supported the Star Foundation, there were also a lot here just for the networking and the positive light it put them in. Some could say that was why Draco was here, which is true, but he had been donating a small part whenever he could over the past few years, so it was nice to support them in person. 

The main event is being held in a large ballroom with a string quartet providing some background music. There are lots of people milling around and the room is full of chatter. Draco drains his glass and steps into the masses, readying himself for the small talk he would have to endure. He makes his was around the room, complimenting and chatting to all kinds of small influential people. 

Draco is on his third glass and is beginning to feel more relaxed. It is then that he sees the back of a familiar messy haired head. Draco curses and slips behind a large man talking to a small crowd. Of course, Potter is here. Why did he not think of this? If Potter sees him, all of Draco’s effort would be for naught and Potter would definitely try and talk to him. He spies a door and approaches it with a few quick strides. He slips through and finds himself in a dark room that looks like a sitting room. There’s a small balcony and Draco is in need of some fresh air. 

Draco steps out onto the small balcony and takes a deep breath of the cool night air. That was a close call. He only has to wait for the speeches and then he can go home. Hopefully, he can stay around the edges then make a quick escape. His feet are aching after only a few hours in his new shoes and he can already feel blisters forming on the balls of his feet and on his heels. Checking that he is alone, he perches on a bench that is lined against the wall and takes of his shoes and socks. Draco peers down at his feet. He’ll need to put some salve on them when he gets home. He winces as he places his feet down on the cold stone, but it’s soothing. 

The quiet night is calming and Draco stands to lean against the railing. The soft music drifts from the ballroom and Draco recognises one of Mother’s favourite pieces. He sways gently letting the notes wave over him. 

A quiet noise has Draco spinning around quickly and he spies a figure shrouded in shadows. 

“Malfoy”, Potter softly addresses him. Draco straightens up and he peers into the dark room. He had hoped he wasn’t spotted, but it seems like his luck has run out. Potter approaches him. “You’re avoiding me.”

Straight to the point. Right. Of course, Gryffindors were never known for their subtlety. He needs to leave before he’s caught up in the Potter storm that always seems to revolve around him. Draco considers his options.

“Our paths just haven’t crossed”, he says dismissively.

“I’m not stupid, Malfoy. I know when someone is avoiding me.” Potter’s eyes narrow and he steps out onto the balcony. Draco stays silent. “What have you been doing at the Ministry?”

“I just some business to take care of. Keeping tabs on me, Potter?” Draco studies him. Potter is wearing dark maroon dress robes that stretch over his tall frame. The soft glow of the moon casts shadows and makes his face look more angular. Bright green eyes burn into his and Draco’s heartbeat speeds up. As much as he hates to admit it, there’s charged air between them and it makes it difficult for Draco to think clearly.

“Maybe I am.” Potter sighs and looks away. “I didn’t expect to see you here. You don’t normally come to these things.”

“It’s a good cause to support,” was all Draco said. He breaths easier without Potter’s eyes burning into his soul. Potter is silent for a few moments. Then he runs a hand through his hair and turns to face Draco.

“Look, Malfoy. I know we didn’t get on in the past. There was a lot of shit between us, but I was hoping we could move on from that.” Potter paused and fidgeted, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “We don’t know each other anymore and it’s unfair for me to judge based on things that happened when we were kids. I want to move on from that. Do you?”

Potter sticks his hand out. Suddenly, it’s like there’s a chasm between them and Potter’s hand is part of the bridge that links the two sides together. On one side, Draco saw his past arrogant self, strutting around and looking down on people. He saw the same arrogant boy, helpless as larger, darker forces overwhelmed him and there was no way out but down. A dark storm swarmed and lightening showed a path leading into a vast shady forest. On the other side, Draco saw his future self, bright and happy. Waves crash and break onto a warm sunny beach and there are clear blue skies. 

He knows that crossing the bridge is no easy task. He is already a few steps onto the bridge. Draco has worked hard and will continue to push until he is on the other side. Thoughts swirl in Draco’s head. Maybe it’s time he stops resisting Potter so much. Maybe he could be helpful. But then again, it could lead him to get caught up in unwanted attention. He doesn’t need Potter to carry him and he certainly doesn’t need Potter mess up his life. 

And yet… Draco hesitates. He stars into Potters eyes and sees sincerity and determination. He knows Potter will not give up on this, especially now he’s caught up with him after weeks of trying to get Draco’s attention. 

Draco makes his final judgement, takes Potters hand and takes one step further along the bridge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Feedback and kudos much appreciated!

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by 'Barefoot' by Thomas Rhett
> 
> Thanks so much for reading! Kudos and comments greatly appreciated :D


End file.
